


Adelante y Atrás

by a_side_of_sin



Series: Adelante [2]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Divergence, Dirty Talk, Episode: s03e08 Morty's Mind Blowers, God it's been so long I've forgotten how to tag shit, Jealousy, Language Kink, Latino!Rick, M/M, Masturbation, Memory Erasing Gun, Memory Loss, Morty remembers, Public Sex, Rough play, Sexy Times, Spanish, brief suicide mention, sex with strangers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 04:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_side_of_sin/pseuds/a_side_of_sin
Summary: Morty finds a memory he's not supposed to have. Rick doesn't know he found it. Shit gets angsty and also sexy. Everybody sins.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And here I told you all that there'd never be a sequel to "De Ahora en Adelante"... Enjoy, you filthy fucking sinners.

“I’m just saying, life’s short. We shouldn’t take things for granite.” Rick huffed and puffed with his helmet in his hands. He was getting too old for this somersaulting through doors shit.

“Are you saying ‘granite’?” There was a hint of derision in Morty’s tone.

“Well, yeah.”

“It’s ‘granted.’ With a ‘d.’ Take things for granted. Did you actually think it was, ha ha, Jesus Christ Rick, what are you, a boulder, a rock person? How long have you been saying that wrong?” Morty chuckled, not bothering to hide how pleased he was to catch his grandpa in an error.

“Oh, you like that, huh? I b-b-bet that really blows your mind,” Rick seethed.

“I mean, yeah, it’s kind of great.” Morty continued to smirk.

“You want me to erase it?”

“What, you can do that?” The smirk disappeared from Morty’s face and reappeared on Rick’s.

“Ah, shit…”

\---

Morty opened his eyes and found himself back in the chair in the mindblowers room, surrounded by neon vials and an agitated Rick. He was livid.

“I fucking knew it, you piece of shit! Y-y-you’re a fucking asshole, Rick!”

“Whoa, take it easy, Morty, come on. Just relax.” Rick attempted to smooth things over, but it just made Morty angrier.

“No, I’m not gonna fucking relax! Come here!” He launched himself at Rick in an uncharacteristic display of aggression, grappling with Rick and attempting to land a punch somewhere.

“Let go of me, you little bitch!” This was getting tedious. Why did Morty’s Mindblowers always have to end in a fight? Goddamn piece of shit teenager.

“I’m gonna grab you by the scruff of your-“ Morty didn’t have a chance to finish his threat before Rick hit him full in the face with the memory gun, completely wiping his mind.

“Take that!” he crowed triumphantly.

But he had spoken too soon. He didn’t notice that Morty also had his hands on the gun, and in Morty’s shock at being hit with the beam, his body tensed up and pulled the trigger again as he slumped over. Rick was hit with a blast of light, and they both collapsed in a heap.

\---

Morty came to with a groan, wincing at how badly his head hurt. He reached up automatically to touch his head, and found a weird helmet there. He didn’t remember putting it on, where he was, or much of anything else, really. He knew he was Morty, that he was a teenage boy, and that he had a massive headache. That was about it. Frankly, he was pleased that he at least knew his own name. He tossed the helmet off to the side, where it landed with a thunk.

As he started to gather his wits, Morty sat up and realized that his limbs were tangled with those of an older man. He struggled to extricate himself, before finally giving up and just shoving the man off of him so he could stand. Once he was on his feet, Morty leaned down to check the man’s pulse. His heart was beating, and Morty didn’t see any wounds, so he assumed that whatever had knocked him out had gotten this guy, too.

The man at his feet looked to be about seventy. He was tall, whipcord thin, and had a bald spot peeking through his blue-gray hair. His skin was graying too, and covered in liver spots, though it had clearly been a nice tawny color at some point in his life. Morty noticed he was wearing a lab coat and holding a gun, and instantly realized that whoever he was, he was almost certainly the cause of the predicament in which Morty found himself.

But Morty had never been one to jump to conclusions, so he tried to focus on how to get his memory back. He tried to shake the man awake, hoping he would have some idea of what had happened. It was just his luck that the guy wouldn’t wake up. Morty could tell he wasn’t dead, but it seemed he wasn’t in any hurry to return to consciousness either.

He started scanning around the room, looking for anything that might give him an idea as to how to put things back to normal, whatever normal was. There was a chair in the middle of the room with a small tray and some neon vials littered around it. The room was circular, and more of the vials were on shelves lining the wall. They glowed blue, purple, pink, and red, in no particular order that Morty could see. The helmet he had been wearing was still where he had tossed it. He picked it up and ran his hands over it, noticing an opening in the front that looked to be roughly the same size as the vials.

Nothing in the room was giving him any kind of concrete clue as to what had happened, until finally his eyes landed on a red box attached to the far wall that was labeled “RESTORE.” Morty crossed the room and opened the box. Inside he found several different note cards, each with instructions on what to do in case of a mind wipe. The only problem was that there were at least five cards, all with different instructions, and he had no idea which one to use. He grabbed a card at random, thinking that anything would be better than nothing.

“SCENARIO FOUR:

  1. Place hand on wall scanner to retrieve yellow and blue vials.
  2. Put helmet on Rick.
  3. Insert blue vial into helmet and press “OKAY.”
  4. Put helmet on Morty.
  5. Insert yellow vial into helmet and press “OKAY.”
  6. Drag both upstairs and turn on interdimensional cable.”



He looked back up at the red box, frowning, not noticing in his distraction that there was a wall scanner just below it. Instead, he started pacing around the room, looking for the vials he was apparently supposed to use to get his memories back. When he found nothing, he went to shake the old man awake, but still had no luck getting him to open his eyes. He supposed the guy’s name was Rick, since he was Morty and the instructions mentioned them both by name. Rick was still soundly unconscious, and it looked like he would be for a while yet.

Morty went back to his search for the wall scanner. He traced around the room with his hand on the wall, just in case it was invisible or covered or something like that. Finally, he ran his hand over a panel that buzzed with static electricity and lit up red when he touched it. Morty could see the outline of his hand on the panel, but it quickly faded as the machine warbled, “Access denied.” He pressed his hand down on it again, to no avail.

“Access denied,” The scanner repeated itself. Morty sighed. If his hand wouldn’t open it, and there were only two of them, he had to assume that Rick’s hand would. With Rick still out for the count, Morty could see that it was going to suck to drag him across the room. But that was the only way to get his memories back, apparently, and he wasn’t going to wait around for the old man to wake up and do it for him.

He grabbed Rick under the arms and lifted him half off the floor. With only his legs and ass on the ground, Morty hauled him to the other side of the chair, closer to the panel. He propped Rick up against the wall, then lifted his hand to the wall scanner. The panel lit up red for a moment and Morty frowned, but then it switched to green and chirped, “Access granted.”

A small door just above the panel swung open, revealing only a yellow vial. There was no blue vial in sight. Morty shrugged, figuring he could always get his memories back now and then look for Rick’s while he waited for him to wake up. He inserted the vial into the helmet and put it on his head before pressing the “OKAY” button. He didn’t notice the label on the vial: “ESPAÑOL.”

\---

He opened his eyes in what he assumed was a memory. He was sitting in some kind of car thing, one hand behind his head and the other on his dick, tugging like his life depended on it. He heard himself groan out, “ _Mierdaaaaa, Rick_ , oh my god, it’s, i-it’s so good R-rick, _dios mio Rick, jódemeeeeee **[i]**…_ ”

A few seconds later, Morty came all over his own fist, and slumped back into the chair, grinning.

\---

In the next memory, they were screaming at each other.

“ _CÓMO, C-CÓMO PUTAS VAS A DECIR QUE, QUE Y-Y-YO NO PUEDO VOLVER A VIAJAR CONTIGO? R-rick, abuelo, no haces esto._ _No lo haces._ _No me dejes aquí. **[ii]**_ ”

“’ _No hagas **[iii]**_ , f-fuck Morty, youUURRRPP, y-you aren’t learning anything, a-and y-you’re being an idiot. It, it’s too dangerous f-for you to go with me. Y-you, you, y-y-y-you almost DIED, M-morty.”

“ _NO ME INTERESA, RICK!! **[iv]**”_

A few moments later, he was pounding up the stairs and falling into his bed, tears in his eyes and cursing under his breath.

\---

It was dark, quiet, and still as Morty crept down the stairs in his pajamas. He paused outside a door in the hallway, listening intently. He heard a faint moan through the door and could tell it was Rick.

“Fucckkkk, Morty…”

He paused, not sure what to make of that, before he heard Rick groan out more dirty talk.

“ _Aaayyyyy dios Morty **[v]**, _ fuck me, ahhhhhh _…_ ”

He barged through the door, noting as he did that his dick had gone stiff in anticipation. The door bounced off the wall and clicked shut again, closing him in the room with the old man. Morty could do nothing but stare at Rick getting fucked by some kind of autonomous dildo, cock in hand and eyes glazed over. He finally snapped, grabbing the old man by the chin. “ _Q-qué chingados estás ha-haciendo, R-rick? Qué es, es tú problema? **[vi]**”_

\---

Rick was sprawled out on the bed, legs open, with Morty shoved up inside him like he belonged there.

“ _T-te gusta eso, viejo? Hm? Te gusta cuando, cuando tu n-n-nieto te culea, cuando te la m-meta hasta que estés com-, completamente lleno? Te gusta cómo, cómo te sientes cuando estoy d-dentro, dentro d-de ti? **[vii]**”_

He pushed into Rick slowly, savoring how good it felt to finally have what he wanted. He kept up the stream of filth pouring from his mouth, and Rick responded in kind.

“ _Eso es para ti, Morty, eso siempre ha sido tuyo, siempre va a ser apretado y mojado para ti, solo para ti y nadie más ahhhh ahhhhhhh AHHHHHH MORRTTTTYYYYY! **[viii]**_ ”

He blew his load inside the old man, then pulled back to watch it dribble out onto the sheets. Snuggling up to the man, he made him promise he would be there in the morning.

\---

He joked as he got dressed.

“ _Ti-tienes una pistola, o,o solo te ha-hace feliz verme? **[ix]**”_

Rick spun him around and kissed him, and Morty could feel how much he wanted him.

“ _Siempre estoy feliz cuando estoy contigo, **[x]**_ Morty…” Morty closed his eyes, leaning in to Rick, and he was too distracted to notice Rick pointing the memory gun at him. _“… Te amo, Morty. Y por eso, no seré él que te destruye._ _Espero que me puedas perdonar. **[xi]**”_

His eyes fell shut.

\---

Morty’s eyes snapped open and he ripped the helmet off his head. Tears were streaming down his face, and to his embarrassment, his cock was hard. Fortunately, Rick still hadn’t woken up. Morty looked down at him, slumped over on the floor after Morty had used his hand to open the panel, and cried even harder. He could feel his blood pulsing in his groin, and that just made it worse.

He remembered everything. The old man was his grandfather, Rick, a crazy genius scientist who flew around in a spaceship and tugged Morty through portals on adventures. He apparently was also the subject of all of Morty’s dirtiest fantasies, some of which he had just watched come to life. He remembered hearing Rick speak Spanish, how hot it was, how much he had wanted him. He remembered learning, carrying the dictionary around, practicing, all the way up until the day Rick had shouted “ _DISPARA! **[xii]**_ ” and Morty had heard “STOP!” 

He remembered the fight, the shouting match in the kitchen, and four miserable days of waiting. But most importantly, he had regained the memory of the night he got what he wanted. He remembered Rick coming at the sight of Morty, then pounding into him, making him groan for it, feeling Rick contract around his dick until he finally screamed Morty’s name. They had shared Rick’s bed that night. Morty had slept contentedly in Rick’s arms. And the next morning, Rick had wiped his memory.

Morty knew he had to think fast if he wanted to keep the memory he had found. It was pretty clear that Rick didn’t want him to remember what had happened, and Morty could only assume that Rick would just wipe the memory again if he knew Morty had watched it. His eyes darted around the room, trying to come up with some way to keep those precious bits of time in his mind. He didn’t know how much time he had before Rick would wake up, but he assumed it wouldn’t be long now.

Almost on instinct, he ripped the yellow vial out of the helmet and tossed it back where he found it, before picking it up again to wipe off any fingerprints. Then he swung the door shut, and wiped that down too, as well as the panel on the wall. Rick’s hand might have touched it last, but who knew how advanced the machine was. Morty would rather be safe than sorry. Then he dragged Rick back across the room, roughly to the point where they had started, and dumped him on the floor.

That finally did it. When Rick’s head hit the floor, his eyes shot open and he started coughing. “Where am I? Who the, w-w-who the fuck are you? _Qué putas estamos haciendo aquí? **[xiii]**_ ”

Morty could have groaned. How was he supposed to fake not knowing Spanish? Luckily, Rick was still pretty out of it, and didn’t notice the boy’s tear-stained face or the bulge in his pants. Rick sat up, looking around in a daze, before muscle memory kicked in and he reached into his coat pocket for his flask. Morty nearly laughed, but knew he needed to act like he was as clueless as Rick if he wanted to get away with this.

“S-s-s-sorry, man, I have no idea. I was just w-w-w-, w-wondering the same thing.” Morty stammered, trying to sound as confused as Rick. He could hear the sound of footsteps on stairs, and seconds later, Summer burst into the room. She had a lollipop in her mouth, and she did not look impressed.

“You guys doing Morty’s Mindblowers?” She raised an eyebrow at them.

“Morty’s Mindblowers?” Morty looked up at his sister, trying to look confused. It wasn’t too hard, given everything that had happened today. He really didn’t know how he and Rick had ended up here or what they had been doing before they were knocked out. He assumed it wasn’t uncommon, though, based on how easily Summer was rolling with it.

Summer sighed. “Grandpa, is this a scenario three?”

“Uh, w-what’s that, and w-who are you?” Rick stuttered.

“Oh man, it’s a scenario four.” Summer popped the lollipop back into her mouth and turned toward the “RESTORE” box. Morty felt himself start to panic. He hadn’t bothered to put the instruction card back where he found it. He had planned on having a little more time to put things back in order. Shit, Summer was going to know something was off.

But Summer paid little attention to the contents of the box, grabbing the “SCENARIO FOUR” card out like it was nothing and perusing the instructions. She placed her hand on the wall just below the box, and a door to the left of it swung open. Morty almost laughed out loud at the sight. He was an idiot for having missed that. He watched as Summer pulled out two vials, a blue one and a yellow one.

She turned around and strode back over to them, then proceeded to shove Rick down into the chair. Yanking the helmet off of Morty’s head and slamming it onto Rick’s, she inserted the blue vial and pressed “OKAY.” She muttered under her breath as she did so, her complaints growing louder, until Morty finally heard her griping. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” Summer complained.

While Rick’s memories were being restored, Summer turned and looked at Morty. “I’m supposed to stay and make sure you get your memories back too, but you know what? Tell Rick to do it. I’m going to get some ice cream with Nancy.” With that, she dropped the yellow vial on the tray by the chair and made to leave. She turned away and bounced back up the stairs, completely oblivious to the fact that Morty had already restored a good chunk of what had been wiped from his mind.

Morty watched as Rick’s eyes whizzed back and forth behind his eyelids, obviously soaking up the memories that had been lost. After about ten minutes spent prone in the chair, time that Morty used to get himself together and coax his dick back down to softness, Rick sat up and heaved a sigh of relief. He eased the helmet off of his head and held it in his lap. Morty could tell that he was fully aware again. Rick’s eyes were cold and sparkling, and his gaze landed on Morty. He looked Morty up and down, like checking him over for wounds, or maybe just checking him out. Morty felt his cheeks grow warm. _Hijo de las cien putas, **[xiv]**_ he was going to get caught…

“Where’s Summer?” Rick finally croaked. He swung his long legs over the side of the chair and stood up. Morty could hear his joints pop as he stretched his arms up over his head and groaned. A thin line of skin showed at Rick’s waist, and Morty shivered a bit. Thankfully, Rick didn’t notice.

“W-w-who, who’s S-s-summer?” Morty stammered, trying to make it sound like he was genuinely confused. “W-w-was, was that the girl that was here? She left. She said you would, y-you would put my memories back.”

“God damn it, _no vale la pena ni tener una nieta si no puede seguir instrucciones_ ,[xv]” Rick sighed. He grabbed at Morty, roughly maneuvering him into the chair and pushing the helmet onto his head. He thought maybe he should struggle a little bit, but he was kind of exhausted. He hoped Rick wouldn’t read anything into it. Morty watched quietly as Rick placed the yellow vial in the helmet, and felt the slight pressure on his forehead as Rick pressed “OKAY.”

He closed his eyes and let the rest of his memories fill his head. There was everything else: school, Jessica, adventures, his family… and the same sick, twisted desire he had felt for Rick for years now. Even without the memories he had found hidden away, Morty had never stopped lusting after his grandfather. He just hadn’t known that he’d acted on it. He felt at least some comfort in knowing that even with his mind wiped, he had never really stopped wanting Rick. It was gross and weird and wrong, but it was who he was.

It felt like a lifetime had passed by the time Rick finally took the helmet off his head. He groaned and pushed himself forward in the chair, and wasn’t surprised in the least to find that he had another erection. Rick was looking pointedly between his legs and sniggered at him as he stood up and adjusted himself.

“Seriously, Morty? Something in there got you going, huh kiddo?” He laughed out loud as he pulled his lab coat over his shoulders. “Well, no time to deal with it now. C’mon Morty, _tenemos cosas que hacer. **[xvi]**_ ”

And with that, he shot open a portal and stepped through it. Morty sighed resignedly and followed him through.

 

 

 ---

Translations:

[i] “Shitttt Rick, oh my god Rick, fuccckkk meeeeee….”

[ii] “HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING TO SAY THAT I CAN’T TRAVEL WITH YOU ANYMORE? R-rick, grandpa, you don’t do this. You don’t do it. Don’t leave me here.”

[iii] “Don’t do it.”

[iv] “I don’t care, Rick!!!”

[v] “Ahhhh god, Morty…”

[vi] “What the fuck are you doing, Rick? What is your problem?”

[vii] “You like that, old man? Hm? You like it when your grandson fucks you, when he stuffs you completely full? You like how it feels when I’m inside you?”

[viii] “That’s yours, Morty, it’s always been yours, it’ll always be tight and wet for you, just you and nobody else.”

[ix] “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

[x] “I am always happy when I’m with you Morty…”

[xi] “… I love you, Morty. And that’s why I won’t be the one who destroys you. I hope you can forgive me.”

[xii] “SHOOT!”

[xiii] “What the fuck are we doing here?”

[xiv] “Son of a bitch”

[xv] “There’s no point in even having a granddaughter if she can’t follow instructions.”

[xvi] “We’ve got stuff to do.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

‘ _Estoy tan jodido, **[1]**_ ’ Morty thought to himself.

It had been about two weeks since the mindblowers room, since he had remembered his Spanish and that one perfect night with Rick. Two weeks since he had recovered a part of himself that he hadn’t known was missing. And now that he had it back, he would do anything to protect it.

Which had meant two weeks of pretending not to understand anything Rick said when he instinctually switched back to his first language. It certainly wasn’t an easy feat, and Morty was beginning to realize just how much unnecessary danger he had faced by not knowing Spanish. Rick would shout commands at him without thinking – _CORRE! DISPARA! SALTA! **[2]**_ – and Morty would have to pause, losing precious seconds while he waited for Rick to remember that he had to say it in English.

He almost couldn’t believe Rick had let him go two years like that. Or at least, he figured it had been about two years. The only frame of reference he had was that he had taken Spanish I the second semester of his freshman year, so it must’ve been that summer when everything had gone down. He couldn’t be totally sure, but it felt about right, looking back at himself in his memories.

 Morty had been an awkward fifteen year old, short and a bit pudgy, with a mess of brown curls that he could never seem to tame. He was grateful that he had grown into his body a bit in the intervening years. Although he was still soft around the edges, he was pretty comfortable with himself now. He was a few inches taller, arms and legs a bit longer, and he had developed some muscle from the constant exercise he got on their adventures. His hair was still a mess, but what teenage boy’s hair wasn’t? The only thing that he hadn’t really grown out of was his tendency for unwanted boners, to his frustration.

Rick may have erased Morty’s ability to speak Spanish, but he apparently hadn’t realized that Morty had developed his little language kink even earlier than that. Morty may not have understood Rick, but that didn’t stop his dick from perking up every time Rick muttered a curse under his breath. That hadn’t changed in the time since his memory had been wiped. Morty had always assumed that Rick was oblivious to his twisted little fantasies, but now he wondered if Rick had known all along, and had been holding himself back whenever Morty shifted in his seat to try to adjust himself.

It was even worse now that he understood what Rick was saying. The only good news was that it wasn’t much of a change from before. He had always gotten hard for Rick speaking Spanish, and had always tried to hide it, so at least there was nothing new to make Rick suspicious on that front. Morty was a teenager, and his pants were constantly tented for one reason or another. _Malditas hormonas **[3]**._

No, what made it problematic was that now Morty knew that Rick would switch to Spanish to praise him. He had always assumed that Rick’s post-adventure grumbling was Rick bitching about him. He would always hear his name, followed by a string of incomprehensible muttering, and figured that Rick was just fuming about whatever he had fucked up this time. But no. It was like Rick was releasing some pent up need to tell Morty how good he was, without letting it get to Morty’s head.

Which was why he now found himself locked in his bedroom, one hand on his dick and the other reaching back to tease at his hole, trying his hardest not to make noise. They had only landed in the garage about five minutes ago, but Morty was desperate and already getting close. He could hear Rick in his head, murmuring sweet nothings under his breath. ‘ _Ay Morty, idiota perfecta, niño más lindo, nieto bello, no puedo comprender como lo haces, como andas conmigo sin llegar hasta acá con mis tonterías, joder. **[4]**_ ’

It was so much better, so much more intense now that he could understand again, now that he had a frame of reference for all of his sick thoughts about Rick. He could vividly remember how good Rick had felt around his cock, sloppy and fucked out but still tightening his muscles so it would feel good for Morty. Rick’s words echoed in his head. ‘ _Dámelo, Morty, por favor no pares, nunca pares, me encanta tu verga, necesito más de ti, ayyyyy no parrressssss **[5]** …_ ’

Remembering how Rick had trailed off into a hiss had Morty bucking up into his hand. He could feel himself tighten up, had to force his other hand into his mouth to keep himself from groaning Rick’s name. He snapped his hips forward once, twice, and then he was spurting all over his shirt, crying out a muffled “AHHHH!” around the knuckles between his teeth.

He was so, so screwed.

\---

Rick couldn’t help but be pissed at how this latest adventure was turning out. They were meant to be making an arms deal with a rebel faction, but they had double-crossed him and tipped off the Gromflamites to the meeting location. ‘ _Cabrones de mierda, me cago en la madre de todos_ ,[6]’ he thought to himself as he and Morty tore across an open plain, running like hell for the ship.

“ _MÁS RÁPIDO, MORTY! **[7]**_ ” he yelled over his shoulder at his grandson. Morty picked up the pace, and Rick’s mind did a little somersault when the kid actually responded to his command. It was a coincidence, though. It had to be. Of course, Morty didn’t actually remember Spanish… Right? That was totally just an instinctual move. Obviously Morty would run faster to not get shot by those goddamn bugs. ‘ _Santo dios por favor no deje que se acuerde **[8]**…_ ’

Just the thought of Morty somehow remembering what had happened had Rick sick to his stomach, but there was no time to deal with it now. They were coming up on the ship and Rick knew he needed to focus if he was going to get them out of here. He grabbed his keys out of the pocket of his lab coat as he approached the driver’s side door, clicked the unlock button, and threw himself behind the wheel. Morty was right there, sliding into the passenger seat with practiced ease, while Rick primed the ship for takeoff.

Seconds later, they were hurtling through the lower atmosphere of Margolia VI with four Gromflamite cruisers hot on their tail. Morty was slumped down in his seat, a constant string of “oh jeez Rick, oh man, oh jeez get us out of here” tumbling from his lips. He was torn between vaporizing the insects who had fucked up his deal and shooting open a portal for them to fly through and escape. Watching Morty out of the corner of his eye, he settled on the latter. He could always come back for the bugs later.

He grabbed the portal gun with one hand while steering with the other, and fired into the nothingness of space. Then they were through, safe from government bullshit and sell-out rebels, back in their own dimension. Rick let himself exhale, relaxing back into his seat for a moment. But then he made the mistake of glancing at Morty, and his heart was in his throat as he watched the kid run faster in his head. He had to find out if Morty remembered.

“Hey, uh, h-hey MoURRGHty,” Rick belched. Morty turned to look at him, and Rick noted, not for the first time, that Morty didn’t have to look up very far to meet his eyes. The kid had definitely grown in the last two years. Rick hated himself for noticing. “H-how, how much do you remember from that one Spanish class you took, Morty?”

Rick watched him carefully, checking for any signs that Morty remembered more than he was supposed to. Rick had erased his memory back to the point where he first started taking Spanish, then replaced it with a fake memory of him failing the class so he wouldn’t want to keep trying. If the fake memory was still intact, then Morty shouldn’t know much beyond the basics.

He watched as Morty made his little thinking face, pursing his lips and look up to his eyebrows, apparently considering how much he had retained. After a few seconds, Morty mumbled, “N-n-not much, Rick. _Gato, perro, por favor_ _ **[9]**_ _…_ ” He sighed, likely embarrassed by how poorly he had done in the class. But Rick felt like he was on the verge of an aneurysm.

He could see it so clearly in his mind, Morty coming home with his end of the year report card, showing Rick he had gotten an A- in Spanish. Rick had been a bit flabbergasted, since it hadn’t seemed that Morty was learning anything, and he had made fun of the kid. “W-w-what did they, did, w-what was even on that test? _Gato? Perro? Por favor?_ ” Two years later, Morty had just muttered the exact combination of words Rick had used to tease him, although it could hardly be more than a coincidence.

Rick tasted the bile rising in his throat. He choked it back down. ‘ _No hay razón para entrar en pánico, **[10]**_ ’ he thought, trying to calm himself. But he needed to make sure. If Morty had somehow remembered, then Rick would need to wipe his mind again. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t be the one who would destroy Morty, and he meant it. He had to check.

“ _Sabes qué, Morty? Tu abuelo está bien orgulloso de tí, pedacito de mierda. Me entendiste lo que grité allá, corriendo de esos malditos insectos, e hiciste lo que te dije._ _No es así, Morty? **[11]**_ ” He didn’t mutter this time like he usually did, but looked straight at Morty, watching closely for his reaction.

Morty blushed a bit, but he was frowning. “Y-y-y-you know what? Fuck you, Rick. You done yet? Y-y-y-you, you know I have no idea what you’re saying. I don’t fucking speak Spanish, Rick, because, because y-y-you’re too much of a piece of shit to actually help me learn. S-so, so speak English or fuck off.” Morty glared at him, before finally turning away from him and facing the window. He rolled sideways in the seat to get comfortable and within a few minutes he was softly snoring, breath fogging the glass.

 _Bueno, pues **[12]**._ That anger was normal. That was the emotion he was expecting. The fake memory always had Morty mad at Rick for refusing to help him pass the class. That was the reaction he wanted. Everything was normal. So why was he still uneasy?

He punched in the coordinates for home and put the ship on autopilot. Rummaging around in his coat, he finally found his flask and put it to his lips. As he took a long gulp of vodka, he reminded himself, ‘ _No lo pienses. **[13]**_ ’ He settled in for the flight back to Earth, closing his eyes and humming softly to himself.

He didn’t notice Morty’s hand down his pants.

\---

Later that night, long after the rest of the family had gone to sleep, Rick found himself sprawled out on his cot, drunk as hell, shirt rucked up over his chest to pinch his nipples while his other hand worked his dick. The same dildo he had been using the night Morty found him was shoved deep in his ass, fucking him slowly as he stroked himself. His head was filled with images of Morty pounding into him, grabbing Rick’s hips and pulling him back onto his cock, urging Rick to spew all of the filthy shit that had been bottled up in his brain. ‘ _Hablame, R-rick. Déjame saber cuánto lo, cuánto lo quieres._ _Sino, siempre p-puedo parar **[14]**…_ ’

The dildo scraped over his prostate and he groaned, the image shifting to one of his fantasies of what it would have been like if he had let Morty remember. It wasn’t hard to imagine what that lithe seventeen year old body could do to him. He could almost see Morty, pressed up between his legs instead of the damn dildo, Morty’s hand on his dick instead of his own, Morty encouraging him to come. ‘ _Córrete, Rick. Córrete por mí. Córrete por tu nieto como el puto que eres_ _ **[15]**_ _…_ ’

It was too much. He was coming all over himself, jizz hitting his face and slipping down his chin. He worked himself through it, continuing to tug his spasming dick until there was nothing left inside him and he was too sensitive to touch it anymore. He reached down, pulling the dildo out of himself and tossing it across the room. He wiped the come away from his mouth, but figured he’d clean the rest of it up later.  

As his heartrate slowed, Rick’s self-loathing moved back to the center of his mind. ‘ _Dios, soy enfermo. Un viejo pervertido que solo puede correrse pensando en su nieto._ _Que asqueroso. **[16]**_ ’ He hated himself so much most days that he could barely stand to go on. But the idea of dying and never seeing Morty again always stopped him from letting those thoughts go too far. Morty needed him. ‘ _Y yo lo necesito a él, **[17]**_ ’ he reminded himself. Fuck, he was drunk.

He thought back to earlier in the day, considering again whether Morty had shown any signs of remembering the night they had spent together. He still couldn’t come up with any overt signs of recognition from his grandson, yet he couldn’t shake his uneasiness. He willed himself to let it go, but without success. He wanted to just sink back in his bed and go to sleep, but his thoughts were still consumed with Morty and the possibility that he remembered. Well, there was always one way to find out, and he was just drunk enough to try. Morty had always been a bit of a loud masturbator, and any whisper of an “ _ayyyyy Rick, másssssss **[18]**_ ” would give him away. Rick knew deep down he was just making excuses to listen to Morty jerk off, but he rationalized it, telling himself that he needed to know whether he was going to have to mind wipe him again. ‘ _Chiflado jodido **[19]**…_ ’

Rick tugged his shirt over his head and used it to wipe the rest of his come off of his chest before pulling it back on. He stepped into his pants, not bothering with his briefs, and moved his flask from his coat to his back pocket. Easing the door open, he stepped barefoot into the hall, listening for any errant sounds before moving. He crept up the stairs, careful to stay to the edge and avoid any creaking, before stopping outside Morty’s door. As softly as possible, he sank to the floor, leaning his head against the door, and pulled out his flask. He would lose his will if he got even the slightest bit more sober, so he tipped his head back, swallowing until the flask was empty.

He heard nothing at first, but that wasn’t too unusual. He knew Morty had to be jacking it, because the little bastard always stayed up late to rub one out. ‘ _Somos animales de costumbres, **[20]**_ ’ he thought to himself. After a few minutes, he caught a soft sigh and a whimper, and knew he was right. Rick pressed himself closer to the door, listening to the little grunts Morty was making on the other side of it. He tried not to picture Morty like that, but he was a sick, drunk freak and his mind plied him with images of the kid with a pillow under his ass, tentatively easing a finger inside himself, sighing as he crooked it up.

It was no surprise that he was hard again. Quietly, he unzipped his pants and shoved his hand inside, palming his dick even though he had gotten off not ten minutes ago. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat as he massaged himself, working his foreskin back and forth over the head, careful not to go too hard or make too much noise. Meanwhile, Morty had picked up speed on the other side of the door, and Rick could hear the soft slap of flesh as Morty jerked himself. The kid was moaning now, soft little mmmmmms and aaaaahhhs. Rick could tell Morty was getting close, and he was about to find out what he wanted to know.

It wasn’t the first time he had done this. He knew that Morty sighed out his name more often than not. Rick might have erased his memory, but that hadn’t stopped his grandson from fetishizing him. Morty couldn’t remember acting on it, but his lust for Rick was still there. So Rick knew he would hear his name any second now. _Más sabe el viejo por diablo que por viejo **[21]**_ , or something like that. Sick fuck that he was, he was close too, just from thinking about it.

Right on cue, Morty groaned out an “AHHHH RICK!” It was followed by a gasp, a pause, and then a soft thud as Morty’s head likely fell back on his pillow. Rick couldn’t tell if the ahhhh had turned into an ayyyyy there at the end, and he didn’t care. Hearing Morty call his name had him coming, the same as it did when he was imagining it alone in his bedroom with a dildo in his ass.

He pulled his hand out of his pants and wiped it off on his hip, tucking himself away and zipping back up. He could hear the beginning of Morty’s soft snores as his grandson drifted off to sleep. Rick’s little excursion had turned up nothing. He still had no idea what Morty remembered. The only thing this had brought him was more hatred for himself. He needed another drink.

Rick slunk back down to his room, stopping in the kitchen on the way for a fresh bottle of vodka. He locked himself in and shrugged out of his come-stained pants, then pulled his shirt off and used it to wipe himself off again. He sank down into his bed, cold and alone, nothing but the booze for company. He reminded himself, over and over and over, that he had to leave Morty alone. ‘ _No seré yo quien le destruye, no seré yo quien le destruye, no seré yo quien le destruye **[22]**…_ ’ He repeated it like a mantra in his head, taking a swig of vodka at the end of each phrase.

As the blackness closed in around him, dragging him down into sleep, Rick had one last thought. ‘ _Sería mejor matarme en vez de arruinarlo de nuevo_ _ **[23]**_ _…_ ’

\---

It had been two months and Morty still couldn’t tell if Rick had figured it out yet. He knew it was just a matter of time before he slipped up enough that Rick caught him. The man was a genius; Morty wasn’t going to be able to hide it forever. He just needed time to come up with a plan for when that eventually happened. So far, he had nothing.

There had been several close calls. The day Rick had tried to test him in the ship had been a close one. Morty knew he had been blushing while Rick praised him, testing to see if he understood or not. He hoped he had done a good enough job of playing it off as angry embarrassment, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Rick had seen right through him. Still, he supposed Rick couldn’t have, because if he had, Morty’s mind would’ve already been wiped.

He had laid in his bed that night, unable to sleep, repeating Rick’s words over and over in his head. Rick had said he was proud of him. Proud that he understood. Morty knew Rick had been testing him, knew he had to play dumb, but god it was hard. The worst part was that he knew Rick actually _would_ be proud of him, _had_ been proud of him, but that still wasn’t enough to keep Rick from erasing his memories. And it wouldn’t be enough in the future, either… Morty knew he needed to come up with something fast. But that night, all he could think about was how good it would feel to have Rick inside him, praising him, telling him how proud he was of Morty for taking his fat fucking cock…

Jeez, he really needed to get a grip. It had been weeks since that night, and they were in the middle of an adventure; now was not the time to be fantasizing about Rick. Especially not with what was going on right next to him. They were sitting in some dingy nightclub on an unmarked asteroid somewhere near the Kuiper Belt, scoping out the place for a possible drug deal the next day. Rick was leaning up against the bar, flirting with the three armed alien making his drink. The thing was pink, squishy, and had all of its eyes on Rick as it made his drink with two hands and caressed Rick’s chest with the other. Morty had no idea if it was male or female and he didn’t fucking care. He hated it.

And while he loathed the idea that Rick would spew dirty talk in Spanish to anyone but him, he had to admit that Rick’s attempts to woo the bartender were doing something for him. Morty faced out into the crowd, pasting a look of disinterest on his face, and pretended to be bored when actually he had his ears trained on his grandfather. Turning away had the added advantage of making it so Rick couldn’t see his hard on, not that he was looking.

“ _Qué te parece si nos vamos p’al baño y me haces una chaqueta con una de esas manos mientras me culeas con las otras dos? **[24]**_ ” The bartender must’ve had a universal translator in, because it giggled at him, and Morty could see out of the corner of his eye that the arm touching Rick had moved lower on his body. “ _O mejor me lo haces aquí mismo en frente de toda esta gente. Te gustaría eso? Verme así a punto de correrme en plena vista de todo el mundo? **[25]**_ ”

The third arm had moved out of sight and Morty couldn’t take it anymore. He launched himself off of the bar stool and made for the dance floor. It wasn’t the sort of thing he would normally do, but if he stayed listening for one more second, he was pretty sure he would’ve dragged Rick bodily out of the club and fucked him in the ship, consequences be damned. He needed a distraction, or he was going to give himself away. And maybe he could take care of some of this pent up tension while he was at it.

Maybe he couldn’t have Rick, but that wouldn’t stop him from having someone else. ‘ _Tal vez ese viejo pedazo de mierda no me quiere, pero estoy harto de no coger con nadie **[26]**…’_ He worked his way into the crowd, tiny jolts of pleasure hitting him each time he brushed his still-hard dick into a stranger as he passed by. Morty knew he didn’t have much in the way of rhythm, but that was the nice thing about dancing in alien clubs – nobody gave a fuck. So he flung himself around on the dance floor, letting some of his energy out and also checking for any interested parties.

After a few minutes, Morty felt a body press up against his back and arms pulling him in closer. _Por fin **[27]**_. He turned to face the alien who had grabbed him, leaning back to get a good look. Bipedal and humanoid, teal green skin, probably male. He reminded Morty of one of the people from the planet Unity had assimilated: same three yellow knobs on the top of the head and slightly darker splotches on the skin around the face. ‘ _A matar dos pajaros de un tiro, pues. **[28]**_ ’ Morty could get his rocks off, and maybe even make Rick jealous in the process if he happened to see.

Of course, first he had to make sure it wasn’t actually Unity. He leaned in to the man’s ear to introduce himself, and could see the universal translator carefully placed there. Since Rick was still over by the bar, he figured he could practice actually using his Spanish out loud. “ _Hola guapo. Me llamo Morty._ _Y con, c-con quién tengo el placer de bailar en esta noche tan linda? **[29]**_ ” Morty may not have been that naturally smooth, but he’d picked up plenty from Rick.

The guy turned his head so his mouth was right up against Morty’s ear. “I’m Rotho, and the pleasure is all mine.” Rotho was either drunk or just audacious, because he followed that up by licking along the shell of Morty’s ear. Morty sighed and relaxed into Rotho’s arms. So far so good. The only twinge of regret was that Morty’s own universal translator was giving Rotho’s words to him in English, since that was his first language. Morty wondered idly if he could find a way to switch it to Spanish so he could keep practicing.

Meanwhile, the music had switched to something slow and sensuous, and Rotho was pulling Morty in to him, grinding their pelvises together and running his hands all over Morty’s torso. ‘ _Ayyy sí, esto era exactamente lo que necesitaba **[30]**._ ’ Morty pressed his stiffy up into Rotho and could feel that the man was equally hard. In a surprise move, Rotho lifted him bodily off the ground, and Morty thought, ‘Fuck it, why not.’ He wrapped his legs around Rotho’s hips, feeling Rotho’s dick pressing insistently against the back of his pants. Rotho shoved through the crowd until he had Morty pressed up against the wall of the club, pressing wet greedy kisses into the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

Morty was sighing and squirming, wanting more but not entirely sure the best way to make that happen. So he asked himself, ‘ _Qué haría Rick? **[31]**_ ’ He nearly laughed to himself, but the sound turned into a groan as Rotho bit Morty’s neck, drawing soft flesh up into his mouth and sucking a mark into Morty’s skin. Morty took a chance, and leaned in to Rotho again. “ _Qué te parece si tomamos esto afuera? **[32]**_ ” Rotho smirked and lowered Morty to the floor, before insistently tugging him toward the door. Morty would take that as a yes.

He could see that Rick was still by the bar, though the bartender had disappeared, probably waiting in the bathroom for Rick. Morty locked eyes with him as he followed Rotho, and the look on Rick’s face made the whole thing worth it. Morty called over to him as he and Rotho neared the door. “ _No te_ …” Morty nearly froze, realizing that he had almost forgotten to switch back to English. He tried to play it off as a stutter and prayed Rick wouldn’t catch it. “N-n-n-no, no worries Rick! I-I-I’ll be back in a bit. Rotho and I are just going somewhere quiet to talk!”

He smirked at Rick over his shoulder as he was pulled out the door, and the man’s narrowed eyes and tight frown had Morty even more raring to go with Rotho. ‘ _A la chingada con Rick._ _Merezco disfrutarme después de todo lo que me ha hecho,_ _ **[33]**_’ he thought to himself. He followed Rotho around the corner into an alley, wondering if Rotho had parked around back. As it turned out, Rotho wasn’t interested in going anywhere. He pushed Morty up against the brick wall of the building, just as he had inside, and tilted Morty’s chin up to meet his mouth.

Morty paused to think for a second, but then threw caution to the wind, closing his eyes and kissing Rotho back, trying not to picture Rick instead. ‘ _Esto no tenía que ver con Rick, por el amor de dios. **[34]**_ ’ Morty snapped his eyes back open, hoping that if he looked at his partner, it would be easier to keep his thoughts away from his jackass grandfather, who was probably already in the bathroom angry fucking the bartender by now. Of course, that thought had his dick twitching in his pants, and he ground up against Rotho, eager to move on from kissing.

He did his best to convey the sense of urgency he was feeling, the overwhelming desire for a filthy fuck in an alley with a stranger. Morty moved quickly to unzip Rotho’s pants, pulling his cock out through the opening and dropping to his knees. The man looked down at him with blind adoration as Morty sucked him, not bothering with any kind of preliminaries but just swallowing him down on the first go. Morty kept his eyes open, coyly looking up at Rotho through his eyelashes, watching the man for approval as he covered his teeth and went to work trying to suck the man’s brain out through his dick.

Eventually Rotho couldn’t take it anymore, and he pushed Morty’s head up against the wall, holding him there by his hair while he fucked into Morty’s mouth. Morty relished the tiny whimpers that he realized were coming from him, loved the feeling of gagging around the hot, throbbing cock as Rotho pounded into his throat. ‘ _Quién es el puto ahora, eh Rick? **[35]**_ ’ he thought to himself.

Thoughts of Rick had him even harder, and he finally tapped Rotho on the arm, willing him to stop his assault on Morty’s mouth. Rotho pulled back, confused and a bit dazed, before Morty grinned up at him and said, “ _No te preocupes, cariño, solo quiero que me culeas ahora. **[36]**_ ” Rotho didn’t need to be told twice. He dragged Morty back upright, then tugged his pants and his briefs down around his ankles. Morty was fiercely enjoying the manhandling, but was a little put off when Rotho spun him to face the wall, since it meant he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes on the man anymore.

Any thought of complaint went out the window as Rotho pressed Morty’s hands up against the wall, then drew the boy’s hips back toward him. He pulled Morty’s cheeks apart, running a finger languidly between them and stopping to press gently on Morty’s entrance. Morty heard him spit, then felt a warm liquid dribble down his crack to his hole. Whatever planet Rotho was actually from, it turned out that his spit was less watery than Earth spit, and Morty took a moment to be grateful for alien anatomy as Rotho used it to lubricate his finger and push roughly in.

Morty really wasn’t in the mood for foreplay, and by this point in his life, he was more than used to shoving all manner of toys up his ass, so it wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was in for. He shoved back from the wall, fucking himself on Rotho’s finger, urging the man to give him more. “ _Otro, dame otro, sí **[37]**…_ ” Rotho added some more spit and then another finger, then a third, as he shoved Morty up into the wall with each thrust of his hand. Morty’s dick was dribbling with every drag of finger over his prostate, and he was pretty sure he could come just from this, but what was the point of a quick dirty fuck if he didn’t actually get fucked?

“ _Ya, jódeme, dame esa verga gorda extraterrestre, arruíname **[38]**…_ ” Morty knew Rotho could hear him over his shoulder, because he turned Morty so they were facing again, then lifted him back up to wrap his legs around the man. He could feel Rotho’s cock at his entrance, and he was tired of waiting. Morty used Rotho’s shoulders as leverage, pulling himself up and sinking back down onto Rotho’s dick like it was the only place in the world he ever wanted to be.

Rotho groaned into his ear and started fucking up into Morty at a punishing pace. There was no waiting to make sure Morty was ready, no pause to check if it felt good, just deep rapid thrusts that had Morty trembling. It was perfect, just what he needed. There was just one problem. Even facing Rotho, Morty had lost all hope of getting Rick out of his head. He could see that the man fucking him into oblivion looked like Unity, but god if it wasn’t Rick’s face he was imagining, Rick’s lithe old body, chest littered with scars, bony old hips pounding up into Morty’s ass.  

Rotho was talking to him, spewing filth into his ear, but the only voice Morty was hearing was Rick’s. “Fuck yeah, you like that, you little slut? Hmmmm? You like having a stranger fuck you senseless?” Morty gave up. He closed his eyes and let the images of Rick wash over him. He knew it was Rotho fucking up into him, an alien that was getting ready to blow his load inside of him, but all he could think, see, hear, feel was Rick. He could almost smell the scent of alcohol that wafted off the old man whenever he was nearby. The thought had Morty getting close, thinking about how boozy Rick had been when they fucked the last time, how his sweat had tasted a little like vodka when Morty had licked the come off his throat. He was so wrapped up in his fantasies that he hadn’t heard the door of the club open around the corner.

Remembering how good it had felt to do this with Rick had Morty ready to come. He wrapped a hand around his own neglected dick, tugging in time with Rotho’s thrusts. It only took a few pulls and the thought of Rick murmuring to him, ‘ _Córrete por tu abuelo, pedazo de mierda **[39]**._ ’ Morty cried out, losing his last bit of control, calling out for the man he couldn’t have. “ _Ayyyy Rick, soy tuyo, soy tuyo_ _ **[40]**_ _,_ fuckkkkkk…” He spilled over his hand, managing to keep most of it in his fingers. He was tempted to just go limp, but apparently Rotho hadn’t been too put off by him screaming someone else’s name.

The man leaned in, whispering in Morty’s ear, “Let me watch you lick it off while I fill you with my come.” He had Morty’s dick making a desperate effort to come back to life, but Morty was ready to be done now. He did as Rotho asked, gently suckling his release off of his fingers while Rotho continued to pound into him. Gradually, his thrusts grew more erratic before he finally shoved into Morty one final time and held there, grunting as he shot his load.

Rotho pulled out quickly, setting Morty gently back on the ground. “I’d offer you something to clean up with, but I kind of like the idea of you walking around with my jizz dripping out of you for the rest of the day.” Rotho smirked at him, and Morty did his best to keep a straight face. He heard the door of the club slam shut and was a bit put off by the idea that some sleazy alien had heard the end of their little tryst. Now that the moment was over, he was physically satisfied, but a little bit disgusted with himself on the emotional front. ‘ _Quién putas era este hombre, y por qué había hecho algo tan idiota como culear con un desconocido solo para hacerle celoso a Rick? **[41]**_ ’

Of course, the nice thing about fucking a stranger was that there was no need for any of the niceties. So Morty just pulled his pants up, arranged himself gently, and grinned at Rotho over his shoulder before turning to head back inside. He didn’t bother with a “goodbye” or “here’s my number” or any of that. Rotho apparently didn’t care, since he made no move to follow Morty, and had a similar knowing smirk as Morty turned away.

Morty gave himself a minute for his eyes to readjust to the darkness of the club, trying to dispel his lingering sense of disgust, before moving toward the bar. He figured Rick had to be in one of two places: either pounding shots like always or back in the bathroom with a random fuck of his own. ‘ _Puto pendejo **[42]** Rick…_ ’ Morty hated him. He hated himself. He just wanted to go home already.

When Rick wasn’t in either of the two places Morty had expected to find him, he started to get antsy. ‘ _Ay dios, que haría si Rick lo había visto?_ _Si lo había escuchado? **[43]**_ FUCK…’ He started shoving his way through the club, desperately hoping to find his grandfather tucked away in a booth getting sucked off by an alien or something. Anything to put his mind at ease that his grandfather definitely had not been outside five minutes ago.

Morty nearly sobbed with relief when he found Rick engaged in almost exactly the scenario he had just pictured. The only difference was that Rick was the one shoved under the table with his face buried in the bartender’s crotch. Or at least, Morty assumed it was a crotch. He couldn’t really tell. The only reason he even knew it was Rick under the table was from a tell-tale belch he happened to hear as he passed by. “ _Gracias a dios **[44]**,_ ’ Morty sighed to himself.

Satisfied that his grandfather was none the wiser to his little escapade, Morty moved off toward the bathroom. Now that he didn’t have to worry about Rick, the only thought in his mind was getting as much of Rotho out of his briefs as possible. He did his best to clean up, eventually realizing that he was never going to get it all out until he was able to go home and take a shower. He gave up and headed back out to the bar, comfortable in the knowledge that all that was left to do now was wait for Rick to grab him and head home.

About fifteen minutes later, Rick reappeared, hair a mess and eyes slightly glazed over, and Morty assumed that he wasn’t the only one who had gotten off tonight. “Com-URRRGGGHHH, come on, M-morty,” Rick slurred. “L-let’s get you home, you little piece of shit.” As expected, he grabbed Morty by the arm and yanked him out of the bar, giving him a little shove down the steps. Rick stumbled toward the car, and Morty could tell he was plastered. He tripped over some invisible obstacle, and Morty took the opportunity to steal the keys from him as he pulled him back upright.

“L-l-l-let, let me drive, Rick. You’re, you, you, y-y-you’re shitfaced,” Morty insisted. Rick paused, apparently thinking about it, then shrugged and moved to the passenger side. He grumbled incoherently as he climbed in, slumping down into the passenger seat. He reached for his flask, taking a long swallow before tossing it over his shoulder, presumably empty. Morty adjusted the driver’s seat to his liking and primed the ship to take off. They’d be home in about twenty minutes, and then he could finally get cleaned up.

He didn’t notice how intensely Rick was staring at him as he lifted off into the atmosphere.

 

 

 

\---

Translations:

[1] ‘I am so fucked.’

[2] RUN! SHOOT! JUMP!

[3] Damn hormones.

[4] ‘Ah Morty, you perfect idiot, you gorgeous kid, my beautiful grandson, I don’t understand how you do it, how you stay with me without having it up to here with my nonsense, fuck.’

[5] “Give it to me, Morty, please don’t stop, never stop, I love your cock, I need more of you, ahhhhh don’t stoppppp…”

[6] ‘Fucking bastards, I’ll shit on all of their mothers.’

[7] “FASTER MORTY!”

[8] ‘Holy god please don’t let him remember…’

[9] Cat, dog, please…

[10] ‘There’s no reason to panic.’

[11] “You know what, Morty? Your grandpa’s real proud of you, you little piece of shit. You understood what I yelled back there, running from those damn insects, and you did what I told you. Isn’t that right, Morty?”

[12] Well then.

[13] ‘Don’t think about it.’

[14] “Talk to me, Rick. Tell me how much you want it. Otherwise, I could always stop…”

[15] “Come, Rick. Come for me. Come for your grandson like the slut that you are…”

[16] ‘God, I’m sick. An old pervert who can only get off thinking about his grandson. Disgusting.’

[17] ‘And I need him.’

[18] “Ahhhhh Rick moorrrreeeee”

[19] ‘Fucking freak…’

[20] ‘We are creatures of habit.’

[21] An old man knows more from being a devil than from being old. [The actual idiom is reversed: “más sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo.” Meaning, “the devil knows more from being old than from being a devil.” Rick mixes it up because he’s drunk and fucked up.]

[22] ‘I won’t be the one who destroys him, I won’t be the one who destroys him, I won’t be the one who destroys him…’

[23] ‘It would be better to just kill myself instead of ruining him again…’

[24] “What do you think about going to the bathroom and jacking me off with one hand while you fuck me with the other two?”

[25] “Or better yet, do it here in front of all these people. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To see me like at the point of coming in plain sight of everyone?”

[26] Maybe that old piece of shit doesn’t want me, but I’m sick of not fucking anyone else…

[27] Finally.

[28] ‘Let’s kill two birds with one stone, then.’

[29] “Hey handsome. I’m Morty. And with whom do I have the pleasure of dancing on this lovely night?”

[30] ‘Ohhhh yeah, this was exactly what he had needed.’

[31] ‘What would Rick do?’

[32] “What do you say we take this outside?”

[33] ‘Fuck Rick. I deserve to have a little fun after everything he’s done to me.’

[34] ‘This didn’t have anything to do with Rick, for the love of god.’

[35] ‘Who’s the slut now, huh Rick?’

[36] “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I just want you to fuck me now.”

[37] “Another, give me another, yeah…”

[38] “Fuck me already, give me that fat alien dick, ruin me…”

[39] ‘Come for your grandpa, you piece of shit.’

[40] “Ahhhhh Rick, I’m yours, I’m yours, fuckkkkkk…”

[41] “Who the fuck was this guy, and why had he done something as idiotic as fucking a stranger just to make Rick jealous?

[42] ‘Motherfucking Rick…’

[43] ‘Oh god, what was he going to do if Rick had seen him? If he had heard him?’

[44] ‘Thank god.’

**Author's Note:**

> FAQ:  
> 1\. Will there be more chapters?  
> Yes, three total.  
> 2\. When?  
> I'll post as I write. Probably all by the middle of June.  
> 3\. Will they have smut?  
> Obviously.  
> 4\. Will it be painful?  
> Of course.  
> 5\. Are you back from hiatus?  
> Yes.  
> 6\. For how long?  
> Who the fuck knows.  
> 7\. Did you come out of hiatus just to write this?  
> Yeah, but I might stay longer if the mood strikes.  
> 8\. Why did you write a sequel to "De Ahora en Adelante" when you always said you wouldn't?  
> I finally caught up on Season 3 and man did Morty's Mindblowers have me feeling nostalgic. So while I really ought to leave well enough alone, it turns out I can't help myself. Don't think about it.


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